Attention
by Alex Snape
Summary: All Harley wants is for her Puddin' to notice what SHE needs. Is that so much to ask? Nolanverse Joker and Harley. FLUFFINESS! Also, this story is a bit of an homage to the scene from Mad Love. You'll see which.


**Hey, gang. Ahead...thar be fluff. Gotta get it all outta my system before continuing Painted Faces. :-)**

He had come home around three 'o' clock that afternoon and, after a quick lunch of a sandwich that Harley had prepared for him, The Joker went into his study where he proceeded to work on a project that he had tried to finish the night before.

She had pursed her lips as she watched his door close and then started her load of laundry.

They had only lived together a couple of months and she was starting to grow antsy during the day as he ran about the city. She grew tired of watching the same television programs and she couldn't walk around the lot too much for his concern of her being spotted. Harley had tried to convince him that no one would see her since they lived in a nearly abandoned and derelict part of Gotham, but he wouldn't hear her. So, she had to learn to be content with getting only about an hour's worth of fresh air and sunshine, if each day happened to bring either of those.

At seven 'o' clock The Joker emerged from his study to go to the bathroom. He didn't look at Harley as she stood by bed, ironing his shirts and listening to the radio. She grinned at him as he passed her, but it faded as soon as he shut the bathroom door.

She was getting tired of all these closed doors.

When he came out of the bathroom, his heavy footsteps suddenly stopped near the door as he finally looked at her. Harley paused in her ironing and grinned as she set it aside as he slowly approached the board.

He gently set his hand on it while he put the other in his pocket. She looked into his tired face and said, "Hey..."

He sighed and ran a finger along the ironing board. "Hey," he replied.

She gave him a small smile, saying, "Stay in here with me."

The Joker's eyes locked onto hers. "Why?" he asked.

Harley shrugged. "I don't know...just so we can talk..."

"About what?"

"Well..." she began. "About the day...how was it for you?"

"I don't wanna talk about it," he said, quickly.

By the manner of his speech, Harley could tell that the day was not a good one, but she wanted to get more out of him than that. "Why not?"

"I just don't."

He was tired. She could see that as he wearily leaned back on his heels and rubbed the back of his neck.

Harley licked her lips. "Why don't you take a break, then?"

"I just took one," he said, pointing to the bathroom.

She was beginning to get annoyed herself. "Pud, you've been in your room for four hours."

"Maybe it's because I'm doing this little thing called..._working_..." he told her in an annoyed tone.

Harley took a deep breath and picked up her iron again, spraying mist onto his shirt and proceeding with her chore. It really upset her when he talked down to her like that, but she convinced herself that, this time, it was just because he was exhausted.

Still, she kept her eyes down as he stood there glaring at her, waiting for her to respond. When she didn't, he went over to her vanity where he had dropped his coat and picked it up. After he threw it onto the bed, he reached into his pocket again and pulled out a purple button. "Hey," he said, to get her attention.

She tried to give him the cold shoulder, but he slammed the button onto the end of the ironing board. "Harley!" he declared in a growl.

She jumped at the sound but looked at the button as he said, "That fell off my coat. Fix it..." He gave her one more cold look before turning and slamming the door behind him, and then closed his study door just as hard.

Harley was soon neatly hanging The Joker's freshly ironed shirts in his small closet near the bed. She sighed as she ran her hand along the fabric of a dark green shirt he would wear to some heists, and then straightened the hem on the leg of a pair of soft, navy blue khakis that was still warm from the iron.

After closing his closet, she picked up his purple coat from the bed and rolled the button he had given her between her fingers. She was still slightly upset by his demanding voice, but she went over to her vanity and sat at her seat as she opened a drawer where she kept her sewing supplies. She put on her square-framed glasses and began her work, gingerly laying his coat across her lap.

All the while, Harley thought about what he might have been doing in his study for the past four hours. Sometimes he would spend all night in there and she wouldn't see him until the next morning when he was fast asleep, either at his desk or in their bed. She always wanted to wake him, but she knew that it wouldn't be a good idea. He always denied sleep when he was in the middle of devising a plan or working on a project, but, to Harley, sleep was what he needed.

That...and a little more time with her.

She shook her head as she brought the needle in and out of the button. It was a wasted thought; he was never home long enough, and if they did happen to make love, it was always rushed because he had to be somewhere. He always made her seem like their 'quickies' were for her benefit, something he could do to keep her from clinging to him when he tried to leave or do work in his study.

That damn study, Harley thought to herself. What the hell does he do in there?

After the button was repaired, she stood up and placed the coat onto her vanity seat and went into the bathroom to brush her hair. She sighed, thinking she might as well get ready for bed since there was nothing else to do but hear The Joker scratching around and tinkering on what he had in his room.

"It's so early," she mumbled, looking at the clock on the bathroom wall. "Damn him..."

She turned on the hot tap in the tub and stripped off her pajamas. She looked into the mirror and put her hands on her hips, turning from side to side to gaze at her body.

"Is there something wrong with me?" she asked her reflection. "I mean, it's not like I've put on a few pounds. Amazing, since I don't get out much. Is it cuz I'm too pale? Would I look good with a tan?"

Her questions went unanswered as she stroked her stomach, just above her navel. She suddenly took in a quick breath and spun around to look at her bottom in the mirror. "Is my ass too big or something?" she said, in a slightly worried tone.

Harley then shook her head as she giggled, turning to face her reflection once more as she thought of how The Joker loved to cup her bottom as they made love. She leaned forward and put her hands on the edge of the counter. She bit her lip as she thought of when he had bent her over it one morning, alternating between squeezing her ass cheeks and holding her hips as he drove himself into her, making her loud moans echo off the glass of the mirror.

She started to feel a slight tingle travel through her body as she traced the curve of her abdomen with her fingers. That happened to be a wonderful surprise for her when he had suddenly come up behind her as she was combing her hair. She had just gotten out of the shower and was still in a sleepy haze when she suddenly had felt his arms wrap around her and his hands grab her chest. He put his nose to her neck and inhaled deeply, growling, "Mmm...you smell...tasty." She had only giggled in response as he bit her skin and sucked her neck, and before she knew it, he had knocked the comb from her hand and she was nose to nose with her reflection as he forced her over the counter.

Harley smiled as she came out of her reverie and turned her attention to her bath that was just about to overflow.

"Shit!" she gasped as she rushed over and turned off the tap. She sighed with relief as she took out the plug and let a bit of the water drain down to a good level. As she waited, Harley glanced at her reflection again and grinned.

She suddenly wasn't in the mood for a bath.

She tossed the plug into the receding water and strolled lightly to her vanity where she picked up The Joker's coat, putting it on and letting her naked body hide inside its thick, purple material as she walked out of the bedroom.

Harley confidently strutted to his study door and when she put her ear to the wood she could hear him mumbling to himself over his work.

She quietly cleared her throat and softly knocked. "Mistah J?" she cooed.

No answer.

"Puddin'?" she called louder.

She heard him put down what he was working on and groan.

Harley licked her lips and tried once more. "Oh, Mistah Jaaaay..."

"What!" came his impatient response.

She jumped but answered in a slightly shaky voice, "May I come in...please?"

There was a short silence and then a heavy sigh as he said, "Fine..."

As soon as she entered his study and shut the door behind her, Harley began to regret disturbing him. He hadn't given her a cold glare or even stood up to prevent her from walking further toward him. Instead, he turned back to his desk and picked up a small object that he was repairing with a tiny screwdriver.

Harley stood at the door for a brief moment and then carried her soft footsteps closer to his desk. She could see that he would probably ignore her, but she wasn't giving up that easily and she hopped onto his desk and sat with her legs crossed, her body still enveloped in his coat.

She gently drummed the edge of the desk with her fingers as she watched him put his tools to a small rectangular box that had two switches and a red button on top. He didn't raise his eyes to her as he worked, and she licked her lips again and asked, "Whatcha doin', Daddy?"

"Working," he stated the obvious in an empty tone.

"What are you workin' on?"

He sighed heavily again as he put down the screwdriver and winded a gear in the back of the box. "A detonator..."

She stopped drumming her fingers and quickly looked around the room, nervously. The Joker noticed her reaction and clicked his tongue, "It only works if there's a bomb already built, Harley. I may be crazy, but I'm not stupid."

"I didn't say that, Puddin'," she said. She looked around the room in a quiet pause and then asked, "How many bombs can that set off?"

He licked the scarred corners of his mouth, saying, "As many as I feel like setting...did you need something, Harl? I'm busy..."

Harley took a deep breath and made her move. "I _do_ need something...now that you mention it..." Her small foot found the crook of his knee and she let her toe stroke against his pant leg.

He lifted his eyes, but not at her. The Joker had his lips pursed as he looked across the room and allowed her to touch him. However, after a few more seconds, he moved his chair an inch or so away from her and proceeded to work.

"Oh, baby," she fussed playfully. "Come on..."

"No," he said simply.

"Oh, Puddin'. Please?" She bit her lip as she looked at him, coquettishly, but he kept his eyes on the detonator. Harley chuckled as she scooted closer to him. "Remember that morning...hm? In the bathroom? I know you do, Daddy..."

The Joker felt her whole foot on his thigh this time as he closed his eyes. He did remember that morning; she had smelled so good and her body was still dripping wet from her shower. Also, the way her cries echoed in his ears as he felt how tight she was...

He shook his head briskly as he said, firmer, "No. Go away..."

She jumped off the desk and walked behind him, running her nails over his back. Harley heard him let out a short moan as she cupped the back of his neck and gently squeezed.

"Oh, come on, Puddin'," she whined. "Don't ya wanna rev up your 'Harley?'" She placed her lips in the crook of his neck and growled, "Vroom vroom!"

She jumped back with a startled squeak as he abruptly slammed down the screwdriver and placed the detonator on the table as he stood. He turned to her and grabbed her wrist and placed pressure on her back as he led her to the door. "Out!" he demanded.

"Mistah J! Wait a minute..." Harley started to protest. When he didn't comply, she managed to break free from his grip and stood her ground. He sneered at her as he crossed his arms, glaring at the adamant expression she held.

"I only want you to spend just a few minutes with me! You're out all day and I have no one to talk to and when you _are_ home, you lock yourself in this room and don't even acknowledge me!"

He rubbed his tired eyes and shook his head. "Okay...so what are you getting at, Harley? I'm really tired and I have work-"

"That's just it!" she exclaimed. "You're always working! You don't pay any attention to me!"

"Harley, you'd better pipe down before I-"

He was interrupted by her sudden throwing open of his coat and exposing her nudity, and his eyes grew wide. Harley just stood there, the determined look still on her face and her boyfriend's surprised yet intrigued gaze scanning her body.

A few seconds later, she whipped his coat back around her and huffed as she opened the door. "There!" she yelled. "That wasn't so hard, now, was it?" She slammed the door behind her, leaving The Joker staring at the now empty space in front of him.

Harley was soon laying across the bed, her face in her pillow as she let small tears trickle from her face. She was still wearing his coat and wiped her cheeks with its sleeves, but soon stopped when she heard the bedroom door open slowly.

The Joker crept toward her and climbed onto the bed, crawling over to her and running a hand on the back of her thigh. He heard her sniffling, but his hand continued to travel up her leg and under his coat, and he gently squeezed her bottom as she whimpered.

He cleared his throat as he sat on the edge of the bed, facing away from her. "You stand on one foot when you wash the dishes..."

Harley quickly sat up and turned to him at this sudden, peculiar remark. "What?" she asked, wiping her eyes.

"At the sink," he told her. "I notice you like to stand on one foot."

She blinked curiously at him, but he continued before she could reply.

"And you fold the towels in perfect little squares..."

"Puddin'..." Harley started, but stopped when he finally turned to face her.

The Joker shrugged. "I like to watch your...little girly quirks. Like how you get annoyed whenever I don't put that little twisty-tie back on the bag of bread...or even how you put down the lid before you flush..."

"What's so quirky about that?" she sniffed. "I'm just trying to prevent germs from-"

"See?" he smiled as she crawled over to him and sat beside him. "You also have a freckle below your belly button. Sort of below and to the left..._your_ left, that is."

Harley smiled and put her forehead on his shoulder. "My belly button?"

"Yeah," he said as he reached into his coat and traced his fingers along her stomach. "Right in this area..."

She giggled as she felt him put his lips to her neck, and she shivered under his breath as he whispered, "Rev up my Harley...that's a good one..."

Harley shrugged, mumbling, "Yeah..."

"However," he said, gently pushing her onto her back and opening his coat. "The noise was all wrong, sweetness..."

"Noise?" she asked, confused, but before she could speak further, The Joker began to sputter loud motor noises into her stomach, making her scream and kick her legs as his vibrating lips tickled her skin.


End file.
